For the Former World has Passed Away
by whatevergirl
Summary: This is not a story about a 1st class man meeting a 3rd class one. This is not a story where love reigns supreme. No, this is a story about two men meeting each other, connecting and even falling in love; it is a story where two men go through Hell, despite finding each other. It's April 1912 and the RMS Titanic, the second Olympic Class Ocean Liner is to make her maiden voyage.
1. Chapter 1

"Is there anyone alive out there?" A strong voice called across the watery grave. "Can anyone hear me?"

"There's nothing moving, sir." Replied a voice softly from behind him.

"Don't just sit there! Check them!"

"Yes sir." The young seaman leaned out the lifeboat, his cold hands clasping around the lifebelt nearest and pulling the person close. The face was white, the eyes gazing out at nothing.

He dropped her and reached for another; she was another pot doll, face as still as if it were cast in porcelain. He grabbed another… and another… The icy ocean water had frozen his fingers, but he leaned out again, using his eyes to see where he was hooking his fingers…

Another body…

Another body… A woman with a small child clasped to her chest…

He could feel his whole body tremble, through horror or cold he neither knew nor cared.

"Sir. Here's one." There was a flurry of movement from the few men as the few men as they pulled the body into the lifeboat. A young man… one of the serving staff from the 1st class dining saloon, if the seaman recalled correctly. He didn't know the man's name.

"Is there anyone alive out there?" the officer called again, once he saw the man they had pulled from the water was being looked after. "Keep looking."

The seaman turned back to the ocean, reaching out to pull another body towards him.

They had to keep searching, looking, hoping for survivors.

* * *

Tim sighed as he stared out over the crowds of people milling about. He was heading to America; to New York, to be precise. He wasn't going to be there long, not really. It was the Titanic's maiden voyage though, and he had a place on it.

The Ship of Dreams… That's what they called her. Tim could believe it. He had seen the thing and she was beautiful. He watched from the edge of D Deck, viewing the passengers as they hurried up onto her.

"Boy, come on!" One of the crew nearby shouted, he turned and walked inside, straightening his clothing as he headed back into the 1st class dining saloon. "Stand by the doors and be ready to great anyone who comes in."

"Who's going to come here? We haven't even left Southampton yet!" Tim objected, but the man just grinned at him and pointed to a spot by the door.

"Over there, young man." He chuckled, heading over to the kitchens.

"Good afternoon, Ma'am." He greeted a young woman as she strolled in. Her eyes flickered towards him briefly, assessing and then dismissing him. She took a seat at one of the table and fitted a cigarette into its holder before lighting it.

Wordlessly, he moved to stand beside her and handed her a wine menu. Her eyes didn't even look at him this time, she simply pointed with the same disinterest. He took the menu and headed off.

"It's amazing." Whispered one of the other young men as he came to stand beside Tim. "Can you hear the engines? We'll be going soon."

"I know." Tim grinned. "I can't wait to see America!"

"Are you staying?"

"Nah. I'll be coming back with this lovely lady." He smiled gently. "England is my home."

"Indeed. Which wine is it she wanted?"

"Oh right." He got back to work, serving to one, cool lady.

"Hey, what's your name?"

"I'm Tim. Timothy Whistler."

"How do you do? I'm Patrick… Harkins."

"Pleased to meet you." He turned and took the glass of wine over.

* * *

"Timothy, go top up the wine."

"Certainly." He grinned at Harold and headed into the crowded dining room. As he was tipping more from his bottle into Sir Archibald's glass, Tim caught the eye of a handsome young man. He was sitting, _slouching_, in his chair, a cigarette between his thin lips. Tim was captivated.

"Boy! Get this." Snapped one of the men, unimpressed at having an empty plate in front of him. Tim bit back a retort and picked up the dish. With his back turned, he missed the eyes of the other young man skim down his back and over his arse.

"Here." He put the plates on the work surface beside the dish washer.

"How long until we get to Cherbourg?" The man asked, his countenance already tired.

"Another hour, maybe 90 minutes? Or so I've heard." Replayed Tim, straightening his waistcoat.

"Excellent. Go get me some more stuff to clean."

"Yes sir."

Tim managed to manoeuvre himself into position to clear that other man's table. He positioned himself beside the fine man and took a deep breath as he leaned over to pick up the dishes.

"Shall I help you?" The soft voice eased into Tim's ears, taking his attention.

This close, the man's eyes were beautiful, Tim felt his heart flutter. His breath caught in his throat.

"I'm fine. Thank you."

"Indeed you are." Whispered the man, his voice barely more than a breath.

Tim jerked the dishes back to his chest and hurried away. By the sink, Tim leaned against the work top, his knees weak.

"You ill, Timothy?"

"No, sir. I'm fine." The head waiter gave him a slight frown. He headed back out to finish clearing the table.

As he finished, Tim felt a hand slip into his pocket, but he didn't dare stop, too aware of the head waiter's eyes on him from the other side of the saloon.

"You are in the smoke room tonight."

"Yes sir." He turned, fingers sliding into his pocket. They came across a piece of paper, but Tim resisted pulling it out yet; he didn't want to draw attention to it.

"Don't forget to be smart." Called the man after him.

'_Meet me on the boat deck, closest to the bow of the ship._

_Gavin._'

Tim stared eagerly at the note as he stood leaning against the door. Gavin… They could meet up in a few hours. Tim would be free once the first class men were done drinking. There were a few first class passengers embarking at in France, but Tim didn't have to worry about them.

* * *

"Good evening." Tim said softly, a nervous smile flickering across his face. Gavin turned, a relieved grin replacing the worried frown. His hands were twisting together.

"Hello. How do you do?" Gavin held out a hand, and Tim grasped it, his palms sweaty.

"I'm well."

"Do you… Sorry. Do you have a name?"

"Na- …? Oh. I'm Tim." He held out his hand again, before nervously jerking it away, realising they hand already shaken.

Gavin grabbed his hand from where it hung by his side. He clasped it in both of his and brought it to his lips.

"Pleased to meet you Tim. My name is Gavin."

Tim just smiled at him, his heart thundering almost painfully in his chest.

"Is there somewhere we can talk?" Asked Tim softly. He wanted to be close to the man without fear that someone would see him.

"Oh… umm… My cabin? I have my own room, separate from my family. We can speak there."

"Where?" he breathed.

"B Deck."

They moved, lust flooding their senses as they walked smartly towards the stairs, Tim in his waiting suit and Gavin in the clothes he had worn to supper.

Once in the room, with the door locked behind them, Gavin turned and looked at Tim, desire clear in his eyes. Tim made no attempt to resist. He pulled Gavin's head towards his own and their lips met for the first time.

It was like someone had lit a candle; one that burnt brightly inside him. Gavin's arms came around him like a vice, pressing him tightly against the strong chest. He heard a loud, desperate moan, though which of them it was he didn't know.

Heat lanced through him as Gavin's hands slid down the button of his jacket, then up to slide it off his shoulders. As Tim was trying to tug Gavin's clothing off, the man managed to remove his waist coat, his braces, his shirt…

"You're beautiful." Whispered Gavin, his large hands roaming Tim's pale skin. The young man flushed as he facilitated his striping. "Perfection…"

"Not quite." Replied Tim, giving a wry grin as he thought about the scars his childhood had left behind.

"Beautiful." Whispered Gavin again, his eyes softening as he looked deeply into Tim's. "And perfect."

Their mouths sealed together as they fell to the blankets, their movements slow as they took time exploring each other. Gavin's clothing was too removed and they lay together, shy hands growing braver as they slid further down.

"Beautiful." Murmured Gavin again, his eyes dipped in passion as he stared down Tim's chest. Tim would have flushed, had his skin not already been that rosy colour.

"I don't believe in love." He replied, rolling over to pull Gavin from his side and over the top of him. He stared up into the face of a man whom he had only just met but had stolen his heart anyway. "Why are you trying to change my mind?"

"Never." Chuckled Gavin, sloppily pressing kisses down his neck. Tim whimpered and bucked his hips up.

"More." He gasped.

"Everything." Promised Gavin, leaning in to suck a mark over Tim's shoulder, where no one could view it. "Anything."

Tim wrapped his legs around Gavin's bare hips, his eyes shut and his fingers digging into the man's skin as they moved together, as they rocked gently like the Titanic cutting her way through the water.

* * *

"I can see you again, right?" Gavin asked softly as he used his shirt to wipe their bodies clean.

"You'd better." Replied Tim, lying casually across the bed, with only a blanket to hide his lower body.

"I will see you again, then." Gavin grinned, leaning over to kiss him. "I am not in America for long, just a month or so."

"I will be returning to England with Titanic. They will not pay me if I do not do my job." He grinned happily at Gavin.

"And we have the whole of this trip."

"We do indeed." Tim pulled Gavin back over him, their bodies shifting as they opened their mouths to one another.

"Gavin?" A woman's voice called from outside the room, accompanied with a sharp knock.

"Yes, Alice?" Gavin stayed where he was, over Tim's body.

"We are heading up from a spot of tea before settling down for the night. Are you joining us?"

"No. I'm tired, dear sister. I think I'll turn in early tonight."

"Sleep well." She called, then there was silence.

Tim stared up into Gavin's kind blue-grey eyes. He wondered if he ought to be heading back up yet. He had no work till the morning, but he was unsure how long Gavin wanted him to stay. He'd never done this before.

"Lie with me a while? I'm sure you have to get back to your own cabin, but…. Stay for a bit?"

Tim felt his body relax; Gavin wanted him to stay. He sat up and pushed Gavin's dressing gown off before pulling him down. Lay across Gavin's naked chest, Tim smiled in contentment.

"I'm sorry if that wasn't what you expected when I asked to meet you." Gavin's voice permeated the silence. "I… don't. I don't ever do that. Never! But you… you are truly gorgeous. I saw you and I knew I had to do something."

"I do not mind at all. In fact, I was thinking the same. I have never followed someone back to their room. I've never even been with someone in this manner… But you are something else. I trust you."

"You barely know me." Whispered Gavin, his voice filled with quiet awe.

"I trust you. Do not ask me why, for I could not answer. I simply do."

"Trust!" Gavin scoffed. "What is that?" But he held Tim firmly to him, pressing a kiss into his hair.

"Do you know the poem 'If'?"

"What?"

"I like poetry. 'If' is a recent poem by a man named Rudyard Kipling. I must have read it a year or two ago, but I copied it into both my poetry books."

"Both?"

"One for at home, and one to take with me."

"Do you have it here?"

"It's in my cabin, but this one I know by heart."

"I wish to hear it." Gavin smoothed Tim's hair out of his face as they lay together.

"I don't know if I remember perfectly… I have never recited poetry since I left school…

"If you can keep your head when all about you  
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,  
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,  
But make allowance for their doubting too;  
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,  
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies,  
Or being hated, don't give way to hating,  
And yet don't look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;  
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;  
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster  
And treat those two impostors just the same;

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,  
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,  
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,  
If all men count with you, but none too much;  
If you can fill the unforgiving minute  
With sixty seconds' worth of distance run,  
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,  
And—which is more—you'll be a man, my son!"

There was silence for a moment before Tim spoke up again.

"I do not remember it all, I'm afraid. I thought I did, but…"

"It's wonderful. Kipling, did you say? Work your way through things without being corrupted…"

"Yes. I got a book of his, 'Rewards and Fairies'. My mother bought it for me when I turned sixteen and started travelling on ships for a living. She wanted me to learn to have a stiff upper lip and not be brought down by those around me."

"She sounds like a good woman. Did you not want to be a seaman?"

"No. I work as waiting staff, but I want to be a chef."

"Working your way up." Murmured Gavin. "Sixteen? How old are you now?"

"Eighteen." Laughed Tim. "I feel we are doing things backwards. May I ask your age?"

"Twenty one." Gavin rolled him over and pressed a deep kiss to his mouth. "And I do not mind backwards, for it has you lying in my arms right now."

"It does." He stretched his neck to reach Gavin's lips again, pushing his tongue forwards into the warm cavern of his mouth.

"Stay a while longer." Muttered Gavin against his lips. "I'll work on your stiff upper lip with you."

"No more than an hour." Replied Tim, his eyes sliding shut as he allowed Gavin to lead them both to passion again.


	2. Chapter 2

The next day was warmer as Gavin stood out on the boat deck, staring out at the lower classes chattering away on the decks beneath him. The majestic glory of such a large and beautiful ship was lost on him as he thought of Tim's pale body. He was skinnier than conventional beauty dictated was attractive, but Gavin had observed that seemed to be the way with many of those who needed to work for a living.

"Gavin?" Alice had spotted him and was leading their mother over. "Dreaming again?"

"We are on the ship of dreams." Gavin deflected, mustering up a smile for the women.

"And you are supposed to be living it, darling, not simply imagining it." Alice linked her arm through his, her expression concerned.

"I do wonder when we will hit Ireland." Mused their mother as she stared out over the body of water before them.

"Before noon, I believe." Replied Gavin. He had asked Tim when they had passed each in the dining saloon at breakfast time.

"I suppose we'll be getting more steerage." Her nose wrinkled in displeasure.

"I'd imagine so, yes." Gavin couldn't quite manage to laugh along with the women; he wasn't sure why, but he didn't find the circumstances of the poor as amusing as he usually did.

"Let's have some tea." Their mother decided, and the two siblings obediently followed her.

"Café Parisen?" Alice suggested.

"Can we not go to the First Class Dining Saloon? I prefer it there." Gavin interjected.

"Come on then, my boy." Their mother headed inside and down the stairs to D Deck. There were advantages to being your mother's favourite. Alice gave him a puzzled look, as though she was trying to work something out.

"Good morning, madams, sir." Greeted the young man by the door. Their mother led them to a table by the window and they sat down.

"Tea, for all of us." She spoke up before the server had a chance to say anything.

"Indeed." He responded and quietly headed off.

"I hope your father has remembered to contact the Browns." The older woman said as she watched a young couple come in and sit down.

"I reminded Peter in my last letter." Alice informed her, daintily spreading out her napkin in her lap.

"Yes. I hope that will be enough. His memory isn't what it once was." She frowned, but said no more on the matter.

"Here you are, ma'am." The server put a tray down and began to unload it. Gavin's eyes trailed off and he spotted Tim topping up Mr Holland's wine glass a few tables away. The younger man nodded his head politely, but didn't stop to speak with him.

Alice let out a hiss, jerking his attention away from Tim.

"What's the matter?" he asked, wondering if the server had stepped on her or something.

"I thought…" she glanced at their mother, who was questioning their server about who would be boarding in Queenstown. "I thought you'd stopped doing… that."

She must have caught him looking at Tim. She knew he had once had a brief affair with another man, though she had never told anyone. He had promised never to do it again and she had dropped the matter. As he was the youngest by a good seven years, she had always been protective of him.

"It's just… him…"

"He was one of the servers at supper, wasn't he?" She frowned at him. "If you are going to do it, can't you at least pick someone more appropriate that a waiter?"

"I don't care what his job is. I think he's wonderful." Gavin replied, irritation starting to seep into his voice.

"11.30." their mother said all of a sudden. The two looked up to see their mother sat watching them, the server no longer by her side.

"Pardon, mother?" Gavin asked, trying to look casual.

"That is when we are to arrive at Cork Harbour; in half an hour."

"Very good." Gavin thought about it for a moment. "We are making decent time, I did wonder if being so big, she might be slow."

"I hope not." Alice sighed. "The journey takes long enough as it is."

"There is Dr Brewe. I wonder if he will join us."

"I doubt it, mother. He has come in with Mr Chevré."

"Shame."

Gavin sipped his tea, eyes still fixed on Tim as the young man went to speak the men. He finished his work at 1pm and was off until 5pm. Gavin intended to spend much of it with him.

"All done, darling?" Their mother asked.

"I am." He put the cup down pulled his cigarette case out. Maybe he could read or something until Tim was done.

"Are you heading to the gymnasium now?" Alice asked, her face free of any harsh intention; she seemed merely curious.

"I may, yes." That would fill in some time.

"I hear the facilities here are very good."

"Well, they are hardly going to say they are lacking when they want you to use the Titanic to cross the ocean." He replied, amusement colouring his tone. Alice grinned back, before dabbing at her lips with a napkin to hide her expression.

"I will see you later on then, mother." He leaned over and kissed her cheek. "Alice." He pressed a kiss to her cheek also and left.

He stopped at his cabin to change and then enjoyed the walk along to the boat deck to the gymnasium. It seemed nice, all done with a wood finish and not a spot of dirt in sight. He headed over to the rowing machine and sat down.

He'd stay for an hour then go get cleaned up to meet with Tim.

* * *

"Good afternoon." Tim said, coming up from behind Gavin. The older man was leaning against the railings, looking out at the endless blue before them, but he grinned when he saw Tim.

"Afternoon. Warmer today, isn't it?"

"There's still a brisk wind."

"Shall we go back to my rooms? Or do you want to stay outside?"

"There are plenty of private rooms on a ship this size." Tim responded, his eyes shining with mischief.

"Indeed. But it is her maiden voyage. She'll be busy everywhere, I imagine."

"You do so wrongly then. Did you not hear of the National Coal Strike? There are just less than 900 crew on board and less than fourteen hundred passengers. We are well under capacity."

"A coal strike?"

"Yes. People will probably travel more when it's done, but for now they aren't going anywhere. I imagine the trip back home will be busier."

"Do you want it to be?" Gavin settled against the railings again, happy to stand and talk. Tim took up a similar stance beside him.

"Certainly. I don't mind being busy. I sleep well and I have a better chance at earning tips."

"Is 1st class good for tips?"

"Not as much as you would think. Some people are very good and tip me every time they eat, but a large number don't even see the workers so don't ever think of tipping. 2nd class is the best for it, I've been told."

"I can't imagine." Gavin stared at Tim's hands; the hands of a worker. "I've never done more than help my father out with business contracts."

"Are you new money? I never really realised there was a difference till I came here. It's the… well, the poshest place I've worked."

"Is it? We're a bit of both. We have an old name and some old money, but my grandfather struck lucky and we got an influx of new money… as it were."

"I don't think I could not work." Sighed Tim, turning his face up as they moved through a patch of sunlight. "I'd be terribly bored. What do you do with your day?"

"I read. I take tea. I visit the gymnasium. I enjoy swimming."

"I don't mind it much, but that sounds… it sounds boring. They are alright when you have spare time, but generally I'm too busy to think about things like that."

"What do you think about then?"

"Normally, my mind is filled with what needs doing, people I need to speak with, checking on my mother… just general tasks. Recently, my mind has been filled with you. It's dreadfully distracting." Tim grinned brightly at him though.

"I do apologise." Said Gavin, though he felt not an ounce of remorse.

"I know how you can make it up to me." Tim stepped back. "Come with me."

They strolled along the deck and slipped through a door. Following the corridor along, the two men were silent. They went through another door, into another corridor, down a staircase, on and on. Gavin was lost quickly, but Tim seemed confident in where he was going.

Eventually, they went in a door which lead to a small cabin. There were two bunk beds inside and a small sink between them. Tim grinned and pushed him down onto the bed by the right wall.

"This one is mine. Everyone else is working until 6."

"Oh." Gavin blushed, but stared curiously at him. Tim wasn't joining him on the bed, but rooting through a bag by the foot of the bed.

"Here." He handed over an old-looking leather bound book.

Gavin accepted it, carefully opening it up. Inside, there were many leafs of paper, words written across them. The script wasn't very neat, but Gavin realised what it was he held.

"Your poetry book?"

"Yes." Tim sat next to him. "It has all my favourites in it."

Gavin looked down at it again, finding the start of a poem and reading over it.

"Half a league, half a league,  
Half a league onward,  
All in the valley of Death  
Rode the six hundred.  
"Forward, the Light Brigade!  
"Charge for the guns!" he said:  
Into the valley of Death  
Rode the six hundred."

"Charge of the Light Brigade." Tim said gently. "This bit always seems like a dark version of Moses:

Cannon to right of them,  
Cannon to left of them,  
Cannon in front of them  
Volley'd and thunder'd;"

"Yes." Gavin turned to press a soft kiss to his lips. "Which is your favourite?"

"Mine? Well, I enjoy the works of Percy Shelley, but this one I adore."

Tim flicked to the back and showed Gavin a sheet of paper. The words had been written carefully on this one, as though he had taken the time to make them neat, but the edges of the paper were curled with use. It had titled above it: Sweet Endings Come and Go, George Elliot.

"Sweet evenings come and go, love,  
They came and went of yore:  
This evening of our life, love,  
Shall go and come no more.

When we have passed away, love,  
All things will keep their name;  
But yet no life on earth, love,  
With ours will be the same.

The daisies will be there, love,  
The stars in heaven will shine:  
I shall not feel thy wish, love,  
Nor thou my hand in thine.

A better time will come, love,  
And better souls be born:  
I would not be the best, love,  
To leave thee now forlorn."

Gavin stared at the words he had read, a tugging in his heart.

"It's very sad."

"I think it's beautiful."

"It's well written, true. But still…" Gavin jumped when Tim took the book off him and ran his fingers in a caress down the page.

"It's an assurance that the wold will continue, even after we die. It helps me not to take everything too seriously. I'm not going to affect England by what I do."

"I thought you don't believe in love though." Gavin tilted his head back, his eyes focussed in on the handsome young man.

"I don't. Well, I didn't. I feel something for you, and though I know it isn't love, it is something."

"Why not love?" Gavin asked, turning and taking one of Tim's hands.

"Pardon?"

"How do you know this isn't love?"

"I have only just met you. If love is an attachment, surely it would take time to grow."

"And yet I am already attached to you. I agree with the final stanza: though there may be better people in the world, I would be most unhappy to leave you alone." He pressed his lips to Tim's hand before continuing. "I already am attached."

Tim leaned in and pressed their lips together, his eyes blinking shut. Gavin raised a hand to cup the back of his head.

"Maybe I do have an attachment to you." Whispered Tim, his eyes still shut. "I trust you though."

"I know." Murmured the man as he pushed Tim back onto the bed. The young man's arms fastened around him, but he pulled his head back.

"Not here?"

"Pardon?" Gavin stopped and gave Tim a confused look.

"I have to sleep in here tonight, with three other men…. I'd rather not- well, it needs to be a good rest." Tim blushed fiercely, but Gavin understood. He had kept imagining Tim beneath him when he had been trying to sleep last night… he had smelt the man with every breath from the used blankets.

"Let's hurry then. I want you." Gavin stood up, adjusted his clothing and hurried over to the door. Tim moved past him and led him through the myriad of passageways again. It seemed to be quicker this time though, possibly because Gavin couldn't think of anything but Tim… but he didn't care about the reason.

As soon as his door was shut and locked behind him, Gavin dropped to his knees and pressed his open mouth to the front of Tim's trousers. The young man braced himself against the wall as he moaned.

"Come on, Gavin." His voice was low and gruff. "Strip."

Their clothing was gone in a moment and Gavin had Tim pressed against the wall, one leg wrapped around his hip.

"Oh, bugger." Groaned Tim, hands sporadically grasping at Gavin's shoulders.

"I'd love to bugger you." Gavin chuckled, "But I have no oil with me. I didn't expect you."

"Gavin…" He moaned, pulling his head back down for a kiss. Their lips met in a wet slide and Gavin pushed his tongue into the younger man's mouth, feeling out the teeth and gums and trembling with the arousal that shot through him from the simple action.

"Bed." He gasped, pulling away to stagger in its direction. His legs weren't going to hold out much longer. Tim followed, his skin flushed down his chest; his eyes were bright though and his body clearly willing.

* * *

"Is there a lot of crew?" asked Gavin as he lay in bed watching Tim dress.

"Yes. 885 of us."

"That's a lot. What does everyone do?"

"It'd take a long time to list everyone's duties." Laughed Tim, as he pulled his trousers up over his lovely, pale legs. "But there are Seamen, engineers, firemen, stokers, stewards, and gallery staff. Basically, a bunch of us responsible for you lot, and another bunch who look after the engines."

"Over 850 though…" wondered Gavin. He couldn't help but marvel at how well everything seemed to work as well, how seamlessly people had to do their jobs to not be noticed. "Are there many passengers?"

"More than thirteen hundred. Over 320 in 1st class, over 280 in 2nd and over 700 in 3rd."

"And you just look after us?"

"Yes." Tim began to fasten up his waist coat; his nimble fingers displaying an energy Gavin did not share as he lethargically rested on his bed.

"Will I see you tonight?" He asked, pulling himself up and reaching for his dressing gown.

"Only at supper I think. I'm working until 11pm."

"How about tomorrow?"

"Possibly. I have the morning off."

"Can you come to my room when you are done? I think I'd like to wake up with you."

Gavin frowned when Tim flinched and stared wide eyed at him for a moment.

"Umm… Yes." He gasped in reply, a smile breaking out across his face despite the young man's clear attempts to fight it.

"I'll see you tonight then." He leaned over and grabbed Tim's jacket, pulling him close and pressing kisses across his face.

"Tonight." Tim breathed, his eyes unfocussed as he tilted his head back to allow Gavin access.

"Off you go then." Gavin murmured, giving Tim one last lick and pushing him towards the door.

"Good bye." Tim said softly, and then he was gone.

Gavin shut the door, locked it and sat heavily on his bed. What was he doing? He was travelling to America to meet with his father and two other siblings. He was travelling with his mother and sister! He was not here to have a romance.

He hadn't planned to have a skinny, young waiter steal his heart, but that was exactly what had happened. He would have to write his address down somewhere for Tim; he would be devastated if they lost contact.

He fell back into his blankets with a frown on his face. Devastated… that was ridiculous in itself. He had only met Tim yesterday. How had he connected so strongly with him in such a short space of time? And to someone who wasn't sure he believed in love! Gavin's parents didn't believe in love. Though they would never admit it, their marriage had been arranged, after all, his mother was from old money and his father had inherited a large sum. His mother tried to be understanding of Gavin, but she just could not realise the depth of the emotion. Though, it was probably for the best. His father had been a general in the army, away for large periods of time. To have such distance between yourself and the one you love… to not know if they were dead or alive? Gavin didn't think he could do it.

He sighed and began to get ready for supper. Maybe he could try the lamb tonight.

* * *

There was a soft knock at the door. Gavin looked up from his book and grinned. It was nearly 11.30pm, but he had been waiting.

"How do you do." He murmured, when he opened the door and admitted Tim. The young man was still in his suit, but he had another one in his hands.

"I… I hope you don't mind, but I brought this in case I don't have time to go get changed tomorrow."

"It's fine." He took the clothing off Tim and put it away with his own suits. "Now, come here."

He held out his arms and Tim slipped into them, smiling softly at the gentle kisses Gavin pressed to his skin.

"How are you?" He asked quietly, taking a step back and beginning to carefully peel Tim from his clothing.

"Tired. After you left a young couple got annoyed about their food not being warm enough. He flipped the table over and made such a mess… I've spent half the evening on my hands and knees trying to get all the little shards of glass up from the floor. The other half was spent trying to sort out the smoke room, where the men managed to set some papers on fire. I think they were trying to destroy the paper deliberately, but they should have thought about where to put the paper first."

"Have you eaten?" he asked, rubbing his hands up and down Tim's back in a soothing motion.

"Yes. That's why I'm so late. Sorry."

"No bother. Come lie down with me."

They settled on the bed together, and Tim's body began to relax into sleep almost immediately. Gavin switched off the lamp and curled in around him.

"Good night, God bless." He whispered as Tim's breathing evened out into sleep.


	3. Chapter 3

Tim stirred slowly, his awareness crawling back to him from the depths of sleep. He opened his eyes to see brown panelling before him.

What?

Robin and Edward's bunk bed had gone? The arm around his waist tightened and someone sighed against his neck. Tim turned.

Gavin.

How had he forgotten? Tim turned over to stare at the man's lax face. Even with lines down his face from where he had slept upon creases, Gavin was still wonderfully handsome. Tim leaned in to press a kiss to his nose.

Gavin's arms were warm but Tim wriggled out of the comfortable cocoon to use the toilet facilities. A glance his pocket watch told him he had over five hours until he had to start work though, so the young man happily made his way back inside.

He debated whether or not to go back to sleep, but when Gavin was lying there looking so attractive, he couldn't help himself. Tim pushed the man onto his back and leaned over him, slowly pressing their lips together.

His breath wasn't particularly pleasant, but as Tim shifted and pulled away to straddle his hips, he found he really didn't care.

"Tim?" slurred Gavin sleepily, but his hands spread out over the tops of his thighs. "G'morning."

"Good morning." Tim replied, his voice low with desire.

He ground his hips down, feeling Gavin against his arse and desperately wishing they had some oil to use. He wanted Gavin in him.

"Gorgeous." Panted the older man, his own hips twitching as he gazed up at Tim, his eyes almost black with his arousal.

Tim had no reply, he dropped his hands to Gavin's chest and worked his hips quicker. His blood surged and his chest tightened. It was quite wonderful.

Gavin rolled them over and crushed him into the mattress, once more sealing their mouths together. Tim groaned at the amount of contact their skin had and he wrapped his legs around the man's body.

"Fuck, Tim…"

Tim panted into his mouth, fingers digging into Gavin's back as they rocked together.

"More… please…"

Tim moved his head to suckle at Gavin's neck, he clamped the salty flesh in his teeth and moved his mouth against it, trying to muffle the noises he couldn't help but make. He could feel Gavin's hot breath against his temple…

"Gavin? Mother and I are heading up to breakfast, are you up?" A woman's voice called through the door. Tim pulled back, clamped his lips shut and pressed his whole face into Gavin's neck. He couldn't make a noise.

"A-Alice? I'll be up later." Gavin's voice was not as calm as it could have been but he managed to get his words out coherently.

"Hmm…. Well, don't forget to eat."

"She knows, doesn't she?" whimpered Tim.

"Yeah. It's fine, don't worry." Gavin began to press little kisses across Tim's face over his nose and down his cheeks.

"What time is it?" worried Tim, all of a sudden, though his voice was still breathy with lust. "Do you need to eat now?"

"You know what? I think I will eat." Gavin grinned at him before pushing Tim's legs wide and making his way down.

* * *

"It's nearly 11 o'clock." Tim said gently, 2 rounds later. "I will have to leave soon."

"Already?" groaned Gavin, holding Tim tighter to him.

"I've been here nearly 12 hours!" he laughed, but he made no attempt to pull away, even as he was squeezed uncomfortably.

"I don't want you to go. When do you have a day off?"

"Not till we arrive in New York. I get that day off."

"While they unload all the post." Chuckled Gavin.

"We are on a Royal Mail ship." Tim responded.

"It's unfair that you don't get a day off till then."

"I don't think they planned for this." Tim sat up and grinned down at his lover. "Terribly remiss of them."

"I want to hear some more poetry." Gavin replied, pulling Tim back down.

"Pardon?"

"You've recited poetry for me every day so far. I want to hear some more."

"Any requests?"

"Tell me one from that Shirley person you said you liked."

"Shelley." Tim grinned and kissed Gavin's chest as he thought about which one to tell. "Ozymandias. It's short enough for me to remember in full:

I met a traveller from an antique land  
Who said: Two vast and trunkless legs of stone  
Stand in the desert. Near them, on the sand,  
Half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown,  
And wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command,  
Tell that its sculptor well those passions read  
Which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things,  
The hand that mocked them and the heart that fed:  
And on the pedestal these words appear:

"My name is Ozymandias, king of kings:  
Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!"

Nothing beside remains. Round the decay  
Of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare  
The lone and level sands stretch far away."

"Look on my works, ye mighty, and despair… I think I've heard that before."

"It means that no matter how great something is, vast and larger than life… it will end up in ruins. Such is the fate of man made things, I suppose."

"Empires too, you reckon?"

"They are man-made. The Roman Empire was once mighty…"

"Indeed." Gavin pulled Tim up level with his face and began to kiss him again. "It is a shame you have to work. I'd much rather spend all my time in bed with you."

Tim laughed and kissed his forehead.

"Be that as it may. I'm going to have to go. I need to eat before I begin working."

"Fine, fine. Go then." Gavin threw a hand up over his eyes, but watched Tim stand up and dress.

"Don't forget to eat." Tim reminded him as he headed out the door.

* * *

"So, who is she?" Patrick was leaning against the door beside Tim and they waited to open them for anyone coming or going.

"What do you mean?"

"I heard rumours that you didn't go back to your cabin last night."

"I don't know what you mean." But Tim couldn't keep the smug grin from his face.

"I'm sure you don't."

"I'm saying nothing on the matter." He laughed, righting to keep himself composed. "Good afternoon, madam."

"Have you seen Mr Featherly anywhere? I heard he was on this boat- ship."

"Sorry, ma'am."

"Hmm…." She wandered through into the dining saloon, her long red hair flowing loosely down her back.

"How do you know you haven't seen him? Do you know who he is?"

"Of course not, Patrick. She'll have to look for her Featherly man herself."

"Bloody Hell, I know we have only been here a little over three hours, but I hope we aren't here for the whole eight."

"I know. I'll be bored of your face long before then."

Harold laughed, and shifted his weight.

"Looks like she's found him."

Tim glanced up and saw the woman with her arms thrown around Gavin. His stomach dropped. Gavin? He hadn't even though to ask what the man's surname was. He watched as she pulled Gavin's face down to her own in a kiss.

His eyes clouded with tears as a pain shot through his chest.

"Tim? Timothy? Are you not well?" Patrick's voice seemed distant, difficult to hear over the roaring of his blood. Tim's face reddened and his ears were burning as he turned and left his spot. He didn't know where he was going, but he had to be somewhere else.

He hurried through corridors and down staircases, not caring where he was. Gavin…

Tim wondered if the pain was his heart breaking. It was ridiculous how much it hurt for something that was merely emotional.

He sank to the floor in one of the storage rooms and, hidden away from the rest of the world, he sobbed.

* * *

"There you are." Patrick sighed, relief lighting up his face.

It was nearly an hour later, but the saloon was busier, so Tim had felt able to return.

"I'm sorry."

"What happened?"

"Nothing." Tim moved over to a table and began to clear away the empty cups and saucers.

"Bullshit." He replied, coming to stand beside Tim and help tidy. "What happened? Was it her? No. You didn't look like you knew her. Him then?"

"You don't think that I'm- that I should…" Tim tried to ask.

"It's not entirely unheard of. But, Tim? Don't get attached to anyone from 1st class. Half of them don't even seem to be faithful to those they marry."

"I didn't mean to get attached at all."

"Don't worry about it then. Besides, for all that she threw herself at him in an undignified manner, he didn't really return the interest."

"No?"

"Not at all. He seemed worried when he realised you had disappeared though."

Tim managed a grin at that.

"I'm sorry. I always over react like that. I'm sure it was nothing."

"Timothy?" The head waiter's deep voice cut through Tim's recovering emotions like a hot knife.

"Yes sir?" he put the pots down on the counter space by the sink and followed the man out to a quiet corner.

"Just where did you go?"

"I'm sorry, sir."

"You've been crying."

"I'm sorry, sir."

"I'm taking this out of your wages. Don't do it again."

"No, sir."

"Get back to work."

"Yes, sir."

He turned and hurried back out to the monotony of serving the 1st class passengers and appearing totally stoic while doing so.

* * *

"Tim? Here you are. I've been looking everywhere."

It was late in the evening but Tim was stood leaning with his arms on the railings at the bow of the ship. It was too dark to see where they were going, but with all the stars out it was beautiful.

"Tim? Is there something wrong?"

"I saw you earlier… with that woman."

"You saw me with Jenny?" Gavin groaned and turned around half sit on the railings. "Timmy…"

"Do I want to know who she is?"

"She was… well, is… my fiancée."

Tim managed a startled laugh, but put his head down to grasp his hair between his fingers.

"I'm not actually going to marry her. There was a misunderstanding. It's one of the reasons I'm heading to America, her father is over there so we are going to get it sorted."

Tim managed a loud whimper but he didn't say anything.

"Tim, please." Gavin stood beside him and stared down at him, feeling overly aware of the men on watch above them. "Let's go back to my room and talk."

"Yeah, sure." He scoffed, but he straightened up and followed Gavin through the ship to his rooms anyway.

"It was a number of years ago." Gavin began sat on his bed with Tim sat beside him, looking insecure. "I had an affair with a man. I met him at the gymnasium and I was utterly taken. Alice, that is my sister who is on board with us, she found out. She told me to protect myself against any rumours that might spread and ruin our reputation."

"So you got engaged?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time. Anyway, it turns out she's… ill… and she has a criminal record. She's quite an arsonist. I broke off the engagement and put her in a hospital."

"So, how is she still your fiancée?"

"I didn't realise she had written to her father about me and got it to make it official. I only found that out recently."

"Oh."

"We are heading over there to change it."

"Does she know why you are going over there?"

"Apparently she thought I was trying to be funny. I've explained it to her properly though."

"Because, it hurt! The time to find out love does actually exist is not when your heart is breaking! It hurt!" Tim snapped, tears once more filling his eyes.

"Timmy…" murmured Gavin, pulling Tim close.

The young man went, allowing himself to be pulled into a warm, secure embrace. His tears began to fall due to his high emotions, though he wasn't sure if he was entirely happy, sad, angry or somewhere in between them all.

"I never meant to hurt you. I love you."

"How can you love me?"

"Because I now like to think I know you. You are wonderful and I love you." Gavin whispered softly, rocking Tim like one might a child.

"Show me." Tim whispered, turning a determined gaze onto Gavin.

"Indeed." The man replied.

He stood Tim up and stripped him slowly, taking time to kiss the skin he revealed. The soft press of his lips made Tim moan and his knees buckle but Gavin continued with his task.

Once bare, Gavin made the young man lie down and he froze for a moment, simply staring. Tim blushed fiercely in embarrassment, but Gavin shook his head.

"Don't. You're beautiful, remember?"

"Sorry."

Gavin picked up one of Tim's feet and pressed a kiss to the sole of it. The young man twitched, but said not a word.

Gavin ran his hands over the cool appendages, allowing his hands to slip higher, onto his calves and up to his knees. He warmed Tim's body with his gaze, just as much as his rubbing.

"Beautiful." Gavin murmured again, before rolling Tim over.

It was, if possible, even more embarrassing to lie on his belly, aware than Gavin was looking at his arse. His fingers clenched in the blankets.

"Relax, Tim. You trust me, remember?"

It helped actually, to hear the man say that. He did trust Gavin, completely and with all his heart. He settled in the blankets and enjoyed the feel and his lover's hands skimming over his body, across his arse and up his back.

The occasional murmurs of "Beautiful…" did nothing to detract from it.

He jumped slightly when he felt Gavin's lips on his spine, gently mouthing their way down. The feel of the man's large hands as they rubbed his sides as though he were an animal that needed calming soon served only to arouse him more.

Stopping just above his crack, Gavin pressed a final kiss to his skin and straightened up.

"I'll save that for when we get to America and have time for a long bath which we can share… I don't want to taste it until I can claim it anyway."

"Gavin…" moaned Tim softly, rolling over and reaching for the man.

"We'll just go slowly. We have the whole night anyway."


	4. Chapter 4

It was a comfortable start to the next day for Gavin as he stirred. He was settled warmly in his blankets, half dreaming of Tim's quirky smile when he noticed the young man was no longer beside him. He didn't bother moving, Tim had mentioned that he needed to be up early when they finally settled down to sleep last night.

His lover had a long shift today, from 7am until 9pm, with only two half hours off at different points in the day. Gavin had told Tim to come back to his room and eat here. He was going to get together a picnic for him.

He sighed, puffing out air to try push the loose strands of hair off his face. It didn't work of course, so he rolled over and worked an arm out of his blankets. He would ask for sandwiches to be made up once the men had retired to brandy and cigars. Tim would be looking after them today, and as tempting as it was to spend the time in the same room as his lover, Gavin rather wanted to get everything ready for when Tim finished.

They were going to have a late evening together. It was Sunday tomorrow, and Tim only had an evening shift, so once they had been to mass they could head back to bed. Gavin was very much looking forward to it.

"Gavin?" Alice's voice called through the door. "It's nearly 11. Are you up yet?"

"What?" He croaked, his throat feeling sore as he pushed himself up onto his elbows.

"Unlock the door. I want a word."

"Give me a minute." He said, coughing to try and clear his voice. The young man quickly pulled on a shirt and tugged up a lose pair of trousers. He didn't bother with braces, or any underclothing. He just checked he was decent enough and unlocked the door.

Alice slid in, opening the door just enough to step in, aware her brother wouldn't be ready yet.

"What are you doing with that serving boy?" She said, her voice low and serious.

"What do you mean?"

"You spend a great deal of time with him, or it seems, distracted by him." Her arms folded over her chest as she glared at him.

"It's just him. Truly, sister. I… I love him."

"L-Love?" Her eyes widened as she took note of her brother's tone.

"It's like nothing I have ever felt." He confided.

"And how does he feel."

"He reciprocates my feelings."

"I'm sure." She scoffed. "He just wants your money."

"We haven't talked about it. Well, he mentioned that first class isn't very good for tipping, but other than that."

"What do you talk about?" Her curiosity got the better of her, especially when she saw the warm shine in Gavin's eyes.

"Poetry, would you believe? He loves poetry. Beyond that, there isn't terribly much talking." Gavin could feel his face burning.

"Too busy dancing?" She teased. "Get dressed. I'll wait outside."

Gavin grinned, slamming the door shut as she stepped out. He could hear her laughing as he began to dress properly.

He ended up spending a large portion of his day in the gymnasium; lifting weighting, rowing back and forth, then into the swimming pools and finally playing a game of squash with his sister's 'gentleman friend', whom she had been far more discreet about than Gavin had with Tim.

At dinner, Gavin's eyes only left Tim when the young man left the room. He seemed tired. He decided he would treat Tim to lunch at Café Parisen, he was aware even without his sister's frequently reminders, that Tim was not a woman he was attempting to court, but he also knew he wanted to treat the man to something… and they couldn't exactly have food in this saloon as everyone would know Tim.

As they ate, he quietly informed his sister of his plans for the evening; well, some of his plans. He told her about the picnic and asked for her advice on what to get to eat. She sat at stared at Tim for a while, watching his skinny body weave in between the tables as he cleared plates.

"I'll bring you up some soup at about nine fifteen. It'll be hot for when he has finished working. You can get sandwiches for yourself. Do you have wine?"

"Wine?"

"You say he has a large portion of tomorrow off? Give the man a drink." She grinned at him. It wasn't perfectly true, but she was trying to be supportive and Gavin appreciated the effort.

"Good idea."

"Are you going to do something other than eat and… the obvious?"

"Pardon?"

"If he has worked for fourteen hours today, he may be too tired to get straight into it. Pick out and book so you can both relax and read for a bit before bed." She was blushing, but her face was serious as she spoke. Gavin took a moment to consider her words. Maybe he could find some prose to read, or some enjoyable poetry… though to be honest, he hoped Tim would have another poem for him this evening.

"I'll think about it." He assured her.

"Good. Now, eat your beef."

* * *

It was nearly ten past nine in the evening when Tim made his way to Gavin's room. Tim grinned widely, his exhausted face lighting up when he saw the food spread out on a blanket, two wine glasses set by a bottle on the floor too.

"A picnic?" He laughed, delight colouring his voice.

"Yeah, so sit." Gavin grinned back. Tim dropped to his hands and knees and leaned over to press their lips together in a soft, sweet kiss. As he pulled back, they heard a voice.

"Knock, knock, Gavin. My hands are full here." Alice was on the other side. Gavin smiled reassuringly at Tim, who had shifted to sit against the wall, as though trying to hide, before he stood up and let his sister in.

She carried a tray with a pot, a covered plate and a ladle on it, but there was also a paper bag on the tray. Gavin glanced curiously at it, raising his brow.

"Your soup, some bread rolls and I brought you some sherbet. I figured you could manage without liquorice to lick it off though." She grinned at him, her eyes flicking towards Tim, who was still curled up against the wall. "Shy, is he?"

"Thank you, Alice." Gavin responded, ignoring her question and practically shoving her out the door. Her gentle laughter could be heard as he shut and locked it behind her.

Tim shuffled his way back onto the blankets as Gavin grabbed two bowls and began to portion out some soup into them.

"Here."

"Thank you."

They were quiet as they ate, Tim's attention taken up with what he was consuming, and Gavin's with his anticipation for the rest of the evening. As he stared at the teenager's face, Gavin supposed his sister was correct in assuming Tim would be tired. They could relax together for a while before doing anything energetic.

"Is it alright?" He asked as he struggled with the cork in a fresh bottle of wine.

"It's wonderful. Thank you… Give that here." Tim chuckled and took the bottle and the corkscrew off Gavin. A moment later and there was a pop as the cork came loose and Tim gave his lover the bottle back.

Gavin topped their glasses up and took a sip, leaning back against the wall as he did so.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired, feeling utterly relaxed.

"Better than I've been all day, thank you." Tim smiled warmly at him. "I'm glad this day is over and done with. I have another shift this long on the way back home, but that's a distance away now."

"I'm glad. Fourteen hours is a long time on your feet."

Tim snagged up wine glass between his fingers and half crawled over to curl into Gavin's chest. "It is indeed."

"Tell me another poem?"

"Sure." Tim laughed. "Any requests?"

"There is a poet called Poe, right? I hear he is popular."

"His aren't the most cheerful poems ever, but how about _A Dream within a Dream_?"

"Whatever you think is best." Gavin felt lucky he had remembered the name of a poet at all, so he settled Tim comfortably in his arms and gave the young man his attention.

"This is a poem about the moment of death. He compares it to a dream, then points out how difficult it is to hold onto any moment in time:

Take this kiss upon the brow!  
And, in parting from you now,  
Thus much let me avow-  
You are not wrong, who deem  
That my days have been a dream;  
Yet if hope has flown away  
In a night, or in a day,  
In a vision, or in none,  
Is it therefore the less gone?  
All that we see or seem  
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar  
Of a surf-tormented shore,  
And I hold within my hand  
Grains of the golden sand-  
How few! yet how they creep  
Through my fingers to the deep,  
While I weep- while I weep!  
O God! can I not grasp  
Them with a tighter clasp?  
O God! can I not save  
One from the pitiless wave?  
Is all that we see or seem  
But a dream within a dream?"

"Amid the roar…" Gavin murmured, once Tim had stilled against him. "And pitiless waves… Not the best poem while we are at sea."

"I find the idea fascinating." Confessed Tim, shifting to take a sip of his wine.

"So is the sand moments in time, or memories?"

"I think of it as time, like an hour glass. Poe usually has the sea represent death and decay, so all time is lost in it eventually."

"Do you know any other poems about the sea?" Asked Gavin, curiously.

"Of course. Lord Tennyson's _Crossing the Bar_."

"Recite that one for me?"

"Sunset and evening star  
And one clear call for me!  
And may there be no moaning of the bar,  
When I put out to sea,

But such a tide as moving seems asleep,  
Too full for sound and foam,  
When that which drew from out the boundless deep  
Turns again home.

Twilight and evening bell,  
And after that the dark!  
And may there be no sadness of farewell,  
When I embark;

For though from out our bourne of Time and Place  
The flood may bear me far,  
I hope to see my Pilot face to face  
When I have crossed the bar."

"What is the bar?" Asked Gavin, wondering if it was some nautical term he had never heard.

"It's a metaphor."

"What for?"

"The barrier between life and death. The Pilot is Jesus, who leads us all to God the Father, and he says he wants to meet this fate peacefully, no mournful farewells."

"So the bar is the line between this life and the next? What does he mean by 'too full for sound or foam'?"

"Well… an actual sandbar is something that forms in river mouths and in harbours. You have to get past it to get out into the ocean. If you think of the sea as death, then you have to get past this bar to die. To move past it on a high tide, or a full tide, would be like dying in his sleep, I assume. I only learnt this one a few months ago. I haven't had the chance to think about every aspect yet."

Tim grinned brightly up at him.

"There seem to be a lot of poems that view the ocean as death."

"That's because for many people it is. Lots of people don't know how to swim, including sailors."

"Really? Seems like an important skill to me."

"It's a bit of an old idea, but if you are at sea and fall in the water, you will only prolong your suffering by knowing how to swim."

"No, you prolong your chance of rescue."

"Would a moving ship really stop and turn around to pick up someone who fell over board? Maybe if the ship was anchored at the time, but otherwise… Plus in the winter months, you could well die from the temperature of the water anyway."

"Could we die from it now?"

"Yeah. It'll be freezing. I suppose it'll be different for some people, but your body just stops working when it gets too cold. Have you ever fell in an icy lake? You kind of freeze up and it's hard to move."

"You've fallen in an icy lake?"

"No, a friend of mine while we were in Northern England. She slipped while we were out in a boat… It was frightening…"

Gavin kissed the top of his head, but didn't say anything else. His mind was filled with images of the deep water he had been admiring when the set out… of how cold it would be… he had bathed in cold water before when he had been in a rush. It was difficult to put your body into such an unpleasant experience… the idea that the sea was death and decay suddenly made far more sense.

He shuddered, despite sitting in a warm room with a warm body pressed against his own.

Tim put his wine glass down and leaned into kiss Gavin softly.

"So, what are the plans for the rest of the evening?"

"If you like, we can always retire to bed?" Murmured Gavin, pressing kisses down Tim's neck.

"Am I staying the night? I'm sure you need to be up for mass in the morning."

"Which one do you go to?"

"We have a service in a different area. First and Second class workers have them at the same time as you, so we are available when you get out."

"Excellent. My sister is going to give me a call in time for ours. She doesn't let mother call me anymore because she knows you are here."

"Well, best not waste the opportunity." Purred Tim softly, his eyes skimming down Gavin's chest as he leaned in to press his lips to the man's neck.

The older man basked in the feel of Tim's lips roaming his skin before pushing the other off. His blood was surging hotly through his body and his attention was focussed solely on Tim, but he knew they would be better off on the bed.

However, Tim took the separation as an invitation to start stripping, which he did slowly, with his eyes centred on Gavin's face. He was only in his shirts, braces, trousers and footwear, having removed the rest of his clothing before eating, but as he slowly slid his braces off his shoulder, moving to begin unfastening his trousers, Gavin let out a loud whimper. His breath was coming quickly now and there was a chance he was actually drooling.

It was fortunate they had a long night ahead of them.


End file.
